


the worst glue in the world

by a_paper_crane



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Excessive use of italics, Fluff, Holding Hands, M/M, Opposites Attract, Q slur, Sort Of, Soulmates, Treebros, also a peculiar children au but not done well, as always, connor is bipolar, evan is a bit weird but WE LOVE HIM OKAY, no dialogue this was kind of just a description exercise, not used as an insult but im tagging it anyway, written during my ongoing breakdown so have fun trying to understand it!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:28:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22996942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_paper_crane/pseuds/a_paper_crane
Summary: Evan says it’s because they’re meant to be.  They help the other reach an equilibrium, find a middle ground.Connor thinks it’s weird that two people who are both so far at the extremes — not just of temperature, but of personality — are able to function together as well as they do.Not weird.  Peculiar.
Relationships: Evan Hansen/Connor Murphy
Comments: 5
Kudos: 61





	the worst glue in the world

**Author's Note:**

> haha read back through this and i kinda hate it but here we are!!!

The best way Connor can describe Evan is peculiar.

Not strange, not weird, not different. They all imply something negative. Evan is just… peculiar.

He taps out “I love you” messages in morse code thinking Connor won’t understand. (He didn’t at first, but he could tell it was morse code, so he learned.) He writes little notes, then folds them into origami so Connor has to unfold them to read the message. He traces pictures and words onto Connor’s wrist. To put it simply, Evan doesn’t like to talk.

But he’s peculiar in different ways, too.

Evan’s hands are always cold. Not cool — they’re cold, like ice. And he wears sweaters in the dead of summer.

Connor drove him to school once, and when he looked over at Evan, the window was frosty.

It was _August_.

Thing is, Connor himself is rather peculiar, too. His face is almost constantly red, like he just finished running a marathon. He can wear sandals in January. He can’t eat ice cream because it melts in seconds.

It’s nice for holding hands, though. Evan is always so cold and Connor is always so warm that when they touch, they balance each other out. And it’s funny to see them in winter, when Connor is sweating in his t-shirt and Evan is practically hypothermic under six layers.

Evan says it’s because they’re meant to be. They help the other reach an equilibrium, find a middle ground. Connor thinks it’s weird that two people who are both _so far_ at the extremes — not just of temperature, but of personality — are able to function together as well as they do.

Not weird. Peculiar.

His relationship with Evan definitely does not have a negative connotation. Actually, the best way to describe Connor and Evan is probably queer, in every sense of the word. He's told Evan that joke before. Evan thought it was hilarious. Connor's dad didn't appreciate it nearly as much. It's not that he isn't supportive, he just isn't comfortable talking about Connor's identity. But Connor has decided that it doesn't matter.

Okay, maybe it does to some extent, but not really. Not compared to Evan.

Nothing matters to Connor as much as Evan does. He's well aware it might not be exactly healthy, but he values what Evan says a million times more than any heartfelt speech by anyone else.

He's working on it. He's working on listening to others more, on being less codependent, on communicating his feelings in a calm, productive way. But it's hard when Evan is so intoxicating, so enamoring, so _Evan_.

Connor is glad that Evan is Evan, as peculiar as he is, because Connor doesn’t think anyone else could put up with him. He doesn’t think he’s that much better than anyone else — he thinks he’s that much _worse_. Connor’s head is as hot as his hands, his heart as cold as Evan’s. It’s hard for Connor to handle himself, but Evan is always there, waiting with open arms. Sometimes it doesn’t work. Sometimes Connor is so focused on what is wrong that it’s hard to register that Evan is there to try to make it right. Sometimes Connor forgets that Evan isn’t the one he’s out to get.

But Evan is always there, no matter how much Connor screams and shouts, to sit and listen. Because Evan knows what it’s like.

Because Evan doesn’t get angry, but he is nearly always anxious. He knows how easy it is to let one thing consume his thoughts, and he knows it’s the same for Connor. He knows that when Connor is manic, he doesn’t mean half the things he says, because he sees manic states similarly to sensory overload, when anything is too much. Because Evan’s brain works differently than Connor's, but he still understands. And Connor is glad.

Their brains are the same as Connor and Evan themselves. They work practically opposite each other, and yet are still wildly different than normal people's brains. Connor's brain moves at the pace of a snail when he's depressed and the speed of light when he's manic, but both nip his inhibitions at the bud. Evan can be cautious to a fault. They fall on opposite ends of the spectrum, but those abnormalities are what keep them together, functioning as a pair. It's rare to see them apart.

It's rumored that the Murphy boy and the Hansen kid are soulmates, and they can't do much to disagree. They've always been told that opposites attract — they're living proof. And though their peculiarities can drive wedges between them, they hold them together, too. Like the worst glue in the world.


End file.
